


The Bullet Called Life (You're Fucked Either Way)

by DarkAlpha67



Series: The Fucked Upped- Verse [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Big Brother Derek Hale, Big Sister Laura Hale, Bruises, Child Neglect, Cold Stiles Stilinski, Deals With The Effects of Child Abuse, Explicit Language, Implied Abandment Issues, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Inspired by Shameless (US), M/M, Markus Stilinski (OC) - Mentioned, Mention of Talia Hale - Freeform, Mentioned Isaac Lahey, Mentioned Malia Tate, Minor Vernon Boyd/Erica Reyes, POV Derek, Protective Derek Hale, Protective Laura Hale, Rafael as Frank Gallagher, Shameless level of fluff, Smoking, Stiles being stubborn, Talia as Monica Gallagher, They aren't all that sweet, Violence, With each other, but not really, mention of rafael, working on relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-21 07:41:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17039597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkAlpha67/pseuds/DarkAlpha67
Summary: Derek was worried. No, actually fucked that, he was going out of his fucking mind. As he stood outside his house in nothing but a thin pair of sweats and a hoodie, he shivered with his cell shaking in his hand.Since that one text from Stiles, a week ago, Derek had not heard or seen him. He’d casually question Scott, hoping that maybe Stiles was just being Stiles and ignoring him but no, nobody had seen him.*Derek hasn't heard from Stiles in a week, and then he runs into him all bruised up with a girl by his side.Or: Derek and Stiles made progress in their "relationship" and try and figure out what they're gonna do now that Markus is back in the picture.(Sorry, I have no idea how to summarize this)





	The Bullet Called Life (You're Fucked Either Way)

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone, thank you so much for your amazing responses and kudos to the last installment. I am sorry for taking so long, I haven't watched Shameless in a while and my inner Micky Milkovich was out of town so I had trouble getting the dialogue just right.
> 
> This chapter deals with some things as I am trying to keep up with the Shameless themes, but if I need to add more, please let me know. Sorry for any mistakes, I've gone overt this a couple of times, but some things always slip through.  
> I hope you all enjoy this! <3

Derek was worried. No, actually fucked that, he was going out of his fucking mind. As he stood outside his house in nothing but a thin pair of sweats and a hoodie, he shivered with his cell shaking in his hand.

Since that one text from Stiles, a _week_ ago, Derek had not heard or seen him. He’d casually question Scott, hoping that maybe Stiles was just being Stiles and ignoring him but no, nobody had seen him.

Derek wanted to call Stiles, fucking hell, he’d come close to doing so four times already, but every single time, all he’d end up doing was stare down at his phone, eyes burning into Stiles name before he ultimate shut his cell off. He felt like a fucking clingy bitch, waiting on Stiles’ ass to call him back and Laura may have picked up that Derek’s been checking his phone way too often but that the fuck did she know.

The Hale’s were a fucking awesome family but they were shitting people to date, Laura being the prime example of that since Derek could remember.

His sister wanted to love. Fuck, he knew she would want nothing more than to meet a guy but sooner or later, she’d realize that she had no fucking idea how to be anything other than the sister who needed to take care of her family. Didn’t help that Derek was around to take the load, she always saw herself as their guardian and Derek knew, sadly, that until the last of them were over 18 or was out of the house, Laura would never have the energy to have any fucking relationship that’s gonna last.

“Fuck.” Derek sighed, turned back around on the back porch slipping his phone into his back pocket, opening the door as quietly as he could.

He trudged up the stairs, with a tense expression, rounding the corner only to stop short when he saw the small girl standing outside his bedroom, her dark hair pulling back into a ponytail and her blue eyes wide.

“Hey, Lis.” He whispered, heading over to her as quietly as he could. “What are you doing up?”

“Can’t sleep.” She whispered. “Heard noise downstairs.”

Derek bit back a curse, both at Stiles for not just sending him a fucking text and at himself for causing this shit. “That was me, sis. Nobody is here.” He gave a small grin, feeling his facial muscles strain against the unwanted expression. “Why don’t you get back to bed? I promise no one’s down there.”

Felicity narrowed her eyes and lifted her chin. “I wanna sleep with you.”

Derek snorted. “That an order?”

“Hmmhm.” She gave him a nod.

Playing along, Derek stared her down, the smile on his lips turning more genuine the longer Felicity held on. Fucking kid was stubborn as hell, stubborn in a way no other Hale was. You try and contradict her and she would list a whole bunch of reasons as to why you’re a dumb fuck and she’s right.

Hell, she even called Isaac that once. Under her breath of course but Laura had been close enough to hear it and tapped her behind the head, talking about ‘language’ which they all knew was fucking pointless.

Felicity was bound to start swearing and Derek wasn’t at all surprised that her first time doing it was as an insult to Isaac.

“Jesus, alright.” Derek groaned. “But you better not kick me in my sleep. My legs were fucking blue the last time.” He gently took her shoulders and steered her through his door where Isaac and Scott were passed out on the other beds.

“Promise.” Felicity whispered harshly up to him before hopping on his bed and pressing herself up against the wall to make more room for him.

 _‘That ways you can always fight Tallie and Rafe.’_ She explained the first time she came to _him_ and not Laura, after hearing a noise downstairs.

Even when they weren’t around, his mother and father still had ways of fucking with them all.

 

 

*

 

Derek, with a plastic bag in hand, walked down the street, nodding to people who called out to him, heading for the Pack. He needed a fucking drink after it the two week mark of hearing fuck all from Stiles has passed.

More than once, Derek was tempted to head over to the old, broken down Stilinski house a few blocks over but he always chickened out. Scott had finally gotten in touch with Stiles but only because they ran into each other at some park.

From the look on Scott’s face, Derek wanted nothing more than to know what the fuck was going in that house. He hated worrying like this. He wasn’t Stiles’ fucking keeper or his boyfriend, and he hated that two months in and the fucking kid was already so deep under his skin that Derek was sure he’d have to gut himself to get Stiles the fuck out.

It was bullshit! What the fuck made Stiles so special? The piece of shit ran his mouth any chance he got and God forbid, Derek try and have an actual serious fucking conversation with him.

He was ten seconds away from thinking ‘fuck it’ to the whole thing and just forget all about Stiles when he heard commotion from one of the Alleys. Derek rolled his eyes and was about to tune out the painful grunts of someone getting the shit beating out of them when he heard a familiar voice.

“Where the fuck is it? I don’t got all day.”

Freezing, Derek stopped just outside the alley, inching closer.

“I don’t know, man! I told you the deadline was next week! I’ll get the money next week.”

“You won’t be fucking breathing next week.” There was a grunt and the familiar sound of a fist slamming against skin.

Derek looked around the corner and lo and fuckin’ behold there was the piece of shit who had made living in his head a fucking hell for the past two weeks. Dressed in dirty clothes, his jeans ripped and his white shirt covered in blood, he stood over a man who looked fucking older than Derek and way bigger than Stiles and yet was cowering on the floor like a pathetic bitch.

“I can always continue if you aren’t getting anywhere with him.” A husky voice, softer and lighter, came from somewhere.

Frowning, Derek angled his head and his eyes fell on a girl seated on a dumpster, legs covered in fishnets, crossed by the ankles, with her combat boots swinging back and forth, banging against the metal box every time. Her face was covered by short, messy hair but even from where he stood, Derek could tell she found this whole thing amusing.

Stiles paused, turning to look over his shoulder and Derek’s breath stopped. His eyes widened at the dark bruised that colored the length of Stiles’ face, the healing cut on the bridge of his nose. Scott never said anything about Stiles being covered in bruises and there was no fucking way that shit happened recently.

“You think so?” Stiles asked the girl before turning his attention back to the man on the floor. “That gonna help convince? I warn ya’, bitch was a thing for damaging a man’s dick.”

The girl scoffed, lifting a finger and aimed it at Stiles’ back.

Groaning, the man grunted as he tried to roll over. “I can get some of the money—“

“Nah.” Stiles cut him off. “Don’t do renegotiation and all that shit. Money up front or have your dick ripped off.”

“Now you have to let me at him, Stiles.” The girl commented, her tone gleeful like she was South Side’s own Harley Quinn.

“Tick-tock, motherfucker.”

“Alright! Fuckin’ fine! Tomorrow! I’ll have it by tomorrow.”

Stiles said nothing for a while and the girl let out a bored sigh. Reaching down, Stiles ran his fingers through the man’s hair, only to grab at the strands roughly, tilting his head up. “If I gotta come find your ass, I ain’t gonna be using my fist. You got that?”

Then he stood up and the girl hopped off the dumpster. The second they turned, Derek got a full view of Stiles. With his lip busted and his cheekbones coloured purple and blue, Derek’s painfully traced the way he walked with a limp in his step. The girl, who looked like she was around Scott’s fuckin’ age, dressed in jeans shorts and a tank top with the side’s ripped open, had a bruise on her cheek bone.

“See ya, tomorrow, Andy.” She called over her shoulder, lifting a middle finger in the air.

Stiles rolled his eyes and just then, they fell on Derek. The second their eyes met, Derek knew this was either gonna go down two ways; one, Stiles was gonna walk away and pretend Derek was nothing to him or he would get in Derek’s face, and demand to know what the fuck he was doing here.

“Stiles?” The girl turned, frowning when she noticed the change. There was a pause and Derek was two seconds way from scoffing and walking the fuck away when the girl followed Stiles’ eyes and they fell on Derek.

“Can I fucking help you?” She asked, raising her eyebrows at him.

Derek clenched his jaw, saying nothing to her and focusing all his attention on Stiles, waiting to see what he was gonna do about this.

“Sup.” Stiles snapped out little moment of stupor, nodding toward Derek. “The fuck you doing around here?”

Oh, so that’s how it’s gonna be.

Derek lifted the bag and answered casually. “Got a party going for Erica and B. Found out she’s knocked up.”

Stiles’ eyes widened. “No fuckin’ shit.” A small grin broke out cross Stiles’ face. “Well congrats to them. About fucking time too.”

There was a small beat, where neither Derek nor Stiles said anything, until a sarcastic voice broke the silence. “Oh, don’t mind me. I’ll just stand here counting the fucking clouds.”

“Fuck you, bitch.” Stiles snapped back, tossing her a light glare. “When the fuck have you ever needed me to fucking introduce you and shit?”

The girl cocked her eyebrows, before turning around to face Derek, a wide, saucy smirk forming on her lips as she stepped closer, shamelessly checking him out. He knew Stiles was noticing this shit but the other man kept his mouth shut, waiting it out with a bored expression.

“Hi, I’m Sasha.” The girl, _Sasha_ , greeted.

Derek nodded, “Derek.”

“Hale?” She asked, tilting her head to the side.

“Sadly.” Derek retorted.

Sasha narrowed her eyes and nodded as though she knew what the fuck he meant by that. Derek took her in, trying to place her face, but he came up blank.

“Maybe, but I gotta say, Scott lucked out with you guys. He could have had a lot worse.” Sasha tossed Stiles a horrified look. “Fuck, he could have come from Markus.” She joked.

Stiles snorted. “Fuck that. Melissa is why too smart to go for that piece of shit.”

“And yet she slept with Rafael.” Sasha turned to Derek. “No disrespect.” She smirked as though she didn’t expect Derek to be offended which only made it seem like she knew more about him that he did her and that fucking bugged him.

Before Derek could add on to that, Stiles spoke up, drawing Derek’s attention away from Sasha. “Yo, Scott still bunking with you guys?”

Derek swallowed back to the need to tell Stiles that a phone call would have answered that question two weeks ago. Instead, he raised his eyebrows and nodded.

Amber eyes ran over his expression, and for a second Derek thought he saw something in them before they closed off. “Tell him to meet at the baseball field tonight.”

Something twisted inside Derek and he forced himself to remain in control. “I’ll pass it along, but his got his own shit going on so he might not make it.” He glared over at Stiles, making sure he heard the message loud and clear.

There was no fucking way, Stiles was gonna ignore him and then expect that Derek was gonna hop on the obedience train. Fuck that shit.

Stiles’ expression shifted for a second before he shrugged, stepping toward, wrapping his arm around Sasha to pull her along as he walked over and past Derek. “Don’t fucking care, man. He can do whatever the fuck he wants, then.”

Derek scowled and glared over at Stiles as the fucker continued on, tugging the girl around with him for a moment before he dropped his arm just as Sasha spun around, her grin wide and spread across her face.

“Was nice meeting you, Derek Hale.” She shouted, wiggling her fingers as she waved.

Derek gave her a smile and nodded in agreement.

Stiles, who had sped up, yelled out. “Hurry the fuck up, Sasha.”

Rolling her eyes, Derek watched as Sasha turned back around and sprinted over to Stiles, launching herself up and onto his back, laughing all the way.

“Fuck! 'You fucking crazy? Get the fuck off me!”

Derek swallowed down the pained twist in his stomach as watched the pair. Two weeks was a long time and if he was gonna be meeting up with Stiles tonight, he knew he would be hearing all about Sasha and how they’d met.

Question was, did Derek really want to walk all the way to a baseball field just to listen to Stiles bullshit his way out of their ‘relationship’.

 

*

 

Stiles can go fuck himself.

Derek nodded to that little proclamation, lifting a silent toast with his shot glass before bringing it to his lips and he tipped his head back, drowning the shot in one go.

“Might wanna slow down there, Der.” Boyd commented from the other end of the bar.

Derek flipped him off.

Fuck Boyd. And fuck Stiles fuckin’ Stilinski. What the hell did he think Derek was? Giving him cryptic fucking messages and expecting him to hop along like a fucking dog in heat just ‘cause Stiles finally had the fucking time to talk?

He could wait in that fucking baseball field for all Derek cared. He hoped Stiles froze his fucking ass off too.

 

*

 

Derek grunted as he pushed himself up and hopped over the fence. Finding his footing, he glared out before him, looking for the fucker. He didn’t have to look long, as he found a stream of smoke coming from the far end of the baseball field, like a fucking smoke signal calling out to Derek.

With a huff, he stalked over, holding onto his anger, repeating to himself how fucking worried he’d been and how one fucking phone call could have helped them both but nah, Stiles was too cool to do that shit. The more the remembered, the angrier he got.

Just as he got there, Stiles looked down from where he was staring down at his phone. “You sure took your fucking time.”

“Fuck you.” Derek snapped back. “I had shit to do.”

Stiles raised his eyebrows, “Right.” He sounded up, lifting up his cigarette to take a drag before reaching over, offering it to Derek. With a glare, Derek took it and brought the bud to his lips, inhaling deeply. Casually, he headed over to lean against the opposite wall, eyes burning into Stiles. He looked cleaner than the last time Derek saw him.

When a few moments passed and Stiles still hadn’t said a fucking thing, Derek rolled his eyes, blowing out the smoke through his nostrils. “You gonna talk or did I come here for nothing?”

Stiles’ dark eyes met his, glaring. His lips twitched, from amusement or annoyance Derek couldn’t discern, it was hard to tell with Stiles. A second later, a wet pink tongue ran over the busted bottom lip.

Derek watched, expression fixed as he waited for Stiles. He wasn’t gonna say shit.

Stiles was the one who wanted to meet here. Stiles was the one who didn’t fucking call and who ignored him, so Stiles can go fuck himself if he thought Derek was gonna make this any easier.

“So, my old man is back.” Stiles started.

“Yeah, I heard.” Derek narrowed his eyes slightly, running them over his form, looking for more evidence of the abuse Stiles had to take from that piece of shit. He glared at the bruise on the side of Stiles’ jaw, blue and angry against his pale skin and the healing cut on the bridge of his nose and lip. “He give you that?”

“’Fuck you think?” Stiles rolled his eyes, shoving his hands jeans. “Besides, we both knew shit wasn’t gonna be all flowers and rainbows when I went back.”

“You could always go live with John.” Derek suggested, tone nonchalant, taking another drag of the cigarette before reaching over to give it back. Stiles shook his head and Derek leaned back, crossing his legs at the ankle, smoke dangling from between his fingers.

Stiles snorted. “Yeah, and leave Sasha with that piece of shit?”

Derek tensed at the mention of the girl, eyes hardening. “She’s living with you?” He kept his voice calm, hiding his anger from that little piece of information.

This whole meet and greet was starting to piss him off. Why the fuck was Stiles dragging this whole thing out? Was he giving Derek little fucking clues, because he was too chicken shit to say it out right?

“Where the fuck else would she stay?” Stiles gave him that ‘you dumb fuck’ expression and Derek was tempted to tell him to fuck off and just walk away. “Anyway, she’s kinda why I haven’t been able to call.”

And there is it!

Derek clenched his jaw, ignoring the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. He hardened his stare, waiting for Stiles to continue. He knew this was coming, he fucking prepared for it.

Hesitant brown eyes looked at him for a second before they dropped to the ground. Stiles was thinking, he always did that when he was thinking. “Thing is, when Markus got out and I moved in, I thought shit would go back to normal. I’d do the dirty work and get on with my life. Then, the piece of shit brought Sasha home, took her away from her mom.” Stiles clenched his jaw, swallowing. “Now, I can handle any shit that motherfucker throws my way but Sasha… she---“

Derek straightened up, hearing the pain Stiles was trying so hard to fucking hide. He took one last drag and dropped the cig, crushing it under his boot. “She what?”

“It don’t matter.” Stiles shook head and just like that, he was back in control. In a blink, the pain and the hesitation was gone and the sure-as-fuck guy was back, eyes clear but shoulders tense. “I just wanted to tell you that until shit with my sister is sorted, I can’t risk Markus catching wind of us.”

_Shit with his ---  
_

“Wait, hold up. Sasha is your sister?” Derek asked, voice heightened, revealing his shock. He wracked his brain, trying to remember if he’d ever seem the girl, ever heard about Markus having another kid but he got fuck all.

Stiles’ expression tightened up in confusion. “Who the fuck else would she be? Scott talked about her, right?” He moved his hand when he spoke, as if this information was common knowledge.

Derek snort. “Scott didn’t say shit about her.”

Stiles waved his hand. “Well, what the fuck ever, I gotta keep an eye out for her, so in case you get the wrong fucking idea about why I ain’t answering your call, now you know.”

Derek nodded, his mind racing. He came here, expecting a break up. It would have been one of many but, this one… Derek didn’t realise until now just how much Stiles fucking means to him. The idea of losing Stiles, fuck he didn’t even want to think about it.

When the fuck did he start feeling like this?

Fuck, he needed to figure out what the fuck Stiles was him, slap a label on that shit and then deal with it like a fucking adult.

“So we cool?” Stiles asked, eyebrows raised.

Derek chewed on his cheek. Were they cool? The part him that understood life in South Side wanted to just forget about this whole thing, ‘cause he got it. Fuck, he knew what it was like to have to protect your siblings and to deal with whatever shit your parents threw your way. Laura and Derek were still waiting for Talia to come back, knocked up, to fuck up whatever stability Derek and Laura had managed for their family.

But the other part, the part that cared about Stiles wanted him to understand that, yeah, he had shit to deal with but Derek could help him with it and that shutting him out was not gonna work for them in the long run.

A demoralizing scoff escaped Stiles. “Look, fuck it. If you wanna end this, then fucking go ahead.” He snapped, anger clouding the pain that Derek saw all too clearly. He raised his eyebrows, daring Derek to do it, eyes clear like he didn’t give two shits.

Exhaling, Derek moved forward, stepping into Stiles’ personal space. The younger man leaned back, pressing himself up against the fence behind him. Reaching, Derek cupped his jaw, eyes fixed on Stiles, thumb stroking the bruised skin. He felt Stiles’ jaw jump against his palm, knew how badly Stiles wanted to give into the touch but also felt the need back away from its tenderness.

He didn’t lean in, didn’t move an inch. He just eyed Derek, staring at him.

“How about we make a deal?” Derek asked him, his voice lowered. He felt Stiles’ hands creep up, felt him fist the material of Derek’s jacket.

“What kinda deal?”

Licking his lips, Derek listed. “I won’t bother you about your father, but you gotta promise that when shit gets rough, I don’t care what the fuck you doing or what I am doing, you take your sister and come to my house.”

Stiles’ eyes hardened. “I don’t fucking---“

“Need me.” Derek cut him off sharply. “I know that. And this isn’t about you needing shit from me. This is about us taking care of each other.”

Stiles tensed, lips pressing tightly together. Derek saw the shock his facial expression refused to reveal, saw the way his eye widened slightly. A few moments passed before Stiles asked, “What else?”

Happy that Stiles was at least listening to him and not blocking him out, Derek continued. “We don’t have to tell anyone anything. But we also can’t avoid shit until we are forced to deal with it.” Derek gave him a look. “I know if we didn’t run into each other, you would not have called me.”

Stiles sighed, eyebrows lifting in confirmation. “When the fuck did you become Dr Phil?”

“Also, you gotta stop deflecting shit.” Derek spoke, adding that to his list.

Stiles snorted. “Yeah, that shit ain’t happening. Deflecting is in my fucking DNA, babe. I can’t do shit about that.”

“Try.”

“Fuck off. Why are you making all the fucking rules?” Stiles asked, his voice lighter than before, almost playful.

“You wanna add on, go ahead.”

Stiles’ grip tightened on his jacket. “I’d rather kiss you.” He pressed himself up against Derek, whose hand slipped further until his fingers were tangled through Stiles’ hair.

“Sex ain’t gonna solve this.”

“Nobody said anything about sex. I just wanna kiss you.” Stiles grinned up at him, smug. “I kinda missed you.”

“Oh yeah?” Derek felt a grin grow on his face, allowing his weight to fall onto Stiles, pressing him against the fence. He leaned in, nose brushing against Stiles’. “I’m not fucking you until we got shit sorted out.”

“Just shut the fuck up and kiss me. You always wanna fucking talk.” A hand suddenly cupped his cheek and drew him in. Soft, warm lips captured his and Derek felt his eyes fall shut at the sensation, his stomach flipping and warmth seeping through his entire body, reacting to Stiles’ touch. An impatient tongue swept across the seams of his lips and Derek opened up for him without missing a beat.

Stiles tugged at his jacket and Derek tightened his grip of Stiles’ strands, teeth sinking into soft lips to draw out a moan. Fuck, now he knew what the hell drew him to Stiles every single fucking second. It wasn’t the sex, or any of that fucking shit, even if was amazing. No, it was the feeling he got from Stiles’ touch. He didn’t know if Stiles knew what affect he had on Derek, and Derek wasn’t gonna tell him fuck all about it.

He felt himself harden in his jeans and snapped his hips forward, grinding against Stiles, seeking friction. Stiles spread a leg, letting him in. Pulling away, Derek tilted his head to side, gripping Stiles hair to tug him head gently back before latching onto his neck, sucking, kissing and nipping at the skin.

“Fuck, no marks.” Stiles groaned but Derek felt the pressure behind his head, pulling him closer.

“Sorry.” Derek muttered, not really meaning it but knowing Stiles was right. Leaning back slightly, he ran his nose up Stiles’ cheek, dropping random kissing as he made his way up to that sweet mouth. They traded kisses for a while, the random ‘fuck’ dropping every now and then.

“Shit, we gotta stop. I ain’t walking home with my jeans soaked in jizz.” Stiles groaned against his mouth, almost ripping himself from Derek’s lips.

Panting, Derek leaned back, eyes closes, mentally telling his dick that he wasn’t getting in anywhere, so it might as well stop. He heard Stiles laugh, because he was a fucking asshole. Derek retaliated by reach down to give Stiles a small squeeze, enjoying the way his laughter hitched.

“Fuck, okay. I’ll stop laughing.” Stiles slapped his hand away.

When Derek opened his eyes, the light in Stiles’ were back, and fuck, did he want to keep that light there. He knew, once Stiles left, once he set foot into that house, this moment and its effect on him will be forced out of his mind and body. He will return to being Markus Stilinski’s kid, the thug who beat anyone up at his father’s command and anyone in between.

His thumb ran over the bruise again.

Stiles turned a little, leaning away from the touch. “You gotta get used to it. Markus ain’t gonna stop any time soon.”

Derek’s gut tightened with anger and hatred. “He – He do anything else with your sister?” Derek forced out the words.

Stiles tensed up, glaring at Derek, but Derek knew it wasn’t him the look was directed at. “Nah, he knows better. He does smack her around a little.”

Derek nodded. Child abuse, as wrong and fucked up as it was, was not a foreign concept to people in the South Side. It was a coin flip and you just got shit luck if your parents beats you. Derek, Laura, Malia and Isaac know how violent Talia and Rafe could get, Cora and Felicity having been spared the brunt of it, thank fuck.

Derek still remembered the day Rafe had raised a hand at Cora. It had taken Boyd, Erica and Laura, to get him and Isaac and Malia off him. They succeeded with Isaac and Malia but Boyd had to rip Derek away from Rafe, drag him away from his father who laid out unconscious on the floor, face busted in.

Lips pressed against Derek’s for a second before Stiles gave him small push. “I gotta be back in an hour. Can we not spend it talking?”

Derek gritted his teeth. They had to talk. Stiles knew that avoiding stuff was asking for a shit storm but Derek also didn’t know when he might actually be alone with Stiles again.

“Yeah. Sure.”

 

*

 

Later that night, as Derek snuck back into the house, he froze by the door as the sight of Laura sitting by the kitchen counter, beer in hand and eyebrows all raised and judgemental.

“About fucking time.”

Derek rolled his eyes. “No one asked you to wait up.”

She said nothing and why would she? Laura’s got a knack for smelling bullshit and getting information out of people.

“You gonna tell me where you were?”

Derek, already heading for stairs, replied. “No.”

_“Hey.”_

Hearing the urgency in her voice, Derek paused and turned. He saw the anger in her eyes and fuck, he felt like a kid again, being on the receiving end of that fucking look. “What?”

“Next time you wanna sneak out, make sure there isn’t a fucking kid waiting for your ass to get home.”

Wincing, Derek turned back around, eyes glancing up the stairs. “She okay?”

“What the fuck do you think? She came to me crying her eyes out because you weren’t there. I’m not your fucking mother, so you do whatever the fuck you want but you better make sure you don’t have anyone waiting for you. You fucking know has abandonment issues.”

“Jesus Christ, we all have fucking issues.” Derek shot back. He had been in just a good fucking mood and he’d been fucking stupid thinking life was gonna let him back just tonight.

“Derek!” Laura snapped at him, her dark eyes burning into him. “Don’t fucking joke about this. Not this.”

“Fuck, alright.” He exhaled, running a tired hand over his face. “Look, I’m sorry. I’ll let her know next time.” Derek met her eyes, making sure she knew he was taking this seriously. She stared at him for a beat before breathing out through her nose with a sigh, her shoulder dropping. Now he felt like a piece of shit.

“Get some sleep, alright. I’ll take care of her.” He said.

“You fucking better.” She muttered, and Derek grinned slightly at her, seeing the small smile on her face. “Now fuck off.”

“Love you, sis.” Derek called out as he jogged up the stairs, heading for his room.

The whole house was dead silent, the floor creaking with every step. He kicked aside some of the clothes littering the floor. His door creaked as he opened it, his eyes dropping to his bed where Felicity laid curled into herself, clutching onto his pillow. Quietly, so he doesn’t wake up Isaac, Scott and Luca who was sound asleep in his crib, Derek undressed, leaving himself in his under-vest and boxers. Just as he lowered himself down onto the bed, Felicity stirred.

“Der?” She mumbled, sleepy baby blue eyes blinking up at him. When they cleared, and she realized that it was actually him, her bottom lip started quivering and Derek did the only fucking thing he could. He turned on his side, taking the pillow and placing it behind Felicity as he drew her in.

“I thought you left.” She mumbled into his chest, her hand coming up to grip his vest.

Cursing himself for being such a fucking asshole, Derek tightened his grip on her. “Sorry, kid. I was out.”

She only sniffed, pressing her face into vest, making no sound as she cried. It fucking killed him, being the cause of his sister’s pain. Derek loved his family, he’d do anything for them but the kids, Cora, Felicity, Isaac and Malia... Laura and Derek worked hard to make sure they didn’t know the full extent of what having Talia and Rafe as parents meant.

Derek protected his family as much as he could but Talia and Rafe had left their mark already. And he fucking hated them for it. He wanted to go out here, fucking find Rafe wherever the fuck he was passed out in his own piss and vomit and just fuck him up.

Breathing through his nose, he forced the anger down and after five deep inhalation, the anger faded which was impressive. It used to be weed and beer that could only calm him but he had to cut back of that shit, ‘cause they didn’t have the money to waste. Felicity fell asleep crying into his chest but Derek remained awake. He thought about Stiles and his sister.

He thought about what they might be going through. Fuck, he wished they had had a ‘Derek and Laura’ growing up and he fucking hoped that this thing between him and Stiles kinda meant that Derek and Laura could be there for them now.

**Author's Note:**

> If there are any questions, please go ahead and ask. <3 And you have any idea's, or would like to see something feel free to leave something in the comment section.


End file.
